It goes something like this.
You’ve asked your teen a thousand times to change out the garbage bag when it’s full. You walk into the kitchen in the morning and start cooking breakfast, only to discover the garbage can overflowing with the remains of his late-night snacks.
You’re immediately annoyed: “That little jerk. He’s so thoughtless, disrespectful, defiant... Why won’t he do such a simple little job?”
Then he stumbles into the kitchen, asks what’s for breakfast and you explode. You try to stay calm but, within seconds, you’re yelling, “You never help out. You’re so lazy. Are you blind or do you just not care about anyone else?”
This is what blame sounds like: You label them. You exaggerate and make sweeping generalizations. You speak without considering your child’s ability to listen or the impact it will have on them. And you say it with anger, frustration, exasperation, disgust, suspicion, discouragement, indignation, bitterness, cynicism, aggravation and impatience.
And in all that reactivity, you don’t say what you actually need, the natural human need that’s underlying your upset. In this case, it might be efficiency, consideration or reliability and, when needs like that aren’t being met, there’s internal pain and you spew out a reaction to that pain, alienate your child and derail any possibility of changing things.
And so, the pattern plays out again and again. I know how exasperating, heartbreaking and exhausting that can be.
Another Approach: Giving Feedback
Giving your kid feedback comes from a different place: your heart and your desire to let them know what’s important to you and what you need in a given situation.
You give feedback when your young adult says yes to listening. That means that you have to ask, “I’d like to give you some feedback. Are you open to hearing it right now?”
You describe what’s working well in this situation. “I love the way I make breakfast and you get the lunches together. It makes things go smoothly and I enjoy that feeling of cooperation.”
You talk only about specific behaviors you’ve observed. “About a week ago and again on Tuesday night, you put your garbage into a full can without changing it out.”
You express a couple of feelings, not a deluge. “When I come downstairs to an overflowing garbage, I feel unsupported and agitated.”
You are clear about one or two of your needs. “I need to be able to rely on a kitchen that runs efficiently, especially in the mornings.” Or “I want to know that you are giving me some consideration.”
You make specific, doable requests. “Every time the garbage comes up to here (show him), take it out and put in a new bag.”
Blame vs. Feedback
The way I see it, blame stems from our pain. It keeps everyone stuck in the same old, unproductive pattern and produces the same old feelings toward each other.
Feedback, however, comes from the energy of our needs. We honour ourselves by expressing the essence of who we are and how we belong in the world. We model authenticity for our young adults. And we save ourselves from carrying around resentment like a spring-loaded device ready to snap at any moment or, in my case, like heavy soot in your heart.
Human needs are universal. When you talk about your needs, your young adults can understand because they have them too. If you give them the language, they can relate to needing things like reliability and consideration. Then they’re able to respond to your request and take out the garbage, not to avoid more disapproval and criticism and not because they’re being forced, but because they 'get' what you need.
Some Questions for your Reflection
In what situation do you often blame, criticize or resent your kid?
If we watched the replay, what would we see you doing and hear you saying?
Which of your human needs are not being met? Be specific. Here’s a list.
What does honoring your needs fuel within you and, from that, what becomes possible for you?
In what ways might giving feedback to your young adult create more of the kind of connection you've been longing for?
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Photo by Romain Huneau on Unsplash